


Hole

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: steven universe future - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety, Crystal gems will be in the next one probably, Depression, Drabble, Gen, I’m bsing these intros by the way, Look when I write, Mid-corruption, Not too happy with this one but, Oh Wyrm?, PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Simplistic thinking, Steven POV, Steven Universe Future, Steven needs therapy, Trauma, WORM THEORY, animalistic thinking, anxiwty and depressiob, corrupted!steven, dissociation???, do not repost to another site, hes literally a giant worm made of, i just pluck words and mesh them together until they sound right, it is HARD FROM STEEBS POV, no beta we die like men, not fully monster yet, possible spoilers up to Prickly Pair, symbolism???, usage of it as loss of identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22014223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: What is a dream but a memory that never was? What is a possibility but that which may or may not be?The river of time is flooding, and the waters are too muddy to see clearly.The signs were there, but overtaken by the water, flooding the hole one has fallen in.Suffocating on butterflies #3
Relationships: Steven & the Crystal Gems
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	Hole

**Author's Note:**

> Look I’m just gonna keep meshing out these incoherent drabbles. I have no planned story so they may jump at times??
> 
> Steven, while corrupted, doesn’t quite have a proper sense of self hence why he’s referred to as ‘it’.
> 
> But uh, y’all seem to like these so far, so thanks.

It wakes up.

The process is slow; the creature finds its eyesight is bleary, the world around it a grayish purple (it is the blue time before dawn and the creatures eyes glow pink). It blinks, owlishly.

And then suddenly it’s howling.

It’s a raw, painful scream of inexplicable sorrow and anguish; all the creature knows is that everything **hurts** , its body is all **wrong** \- _**wrong wrong wrong wrong**_! It slavers and growls and howls, slashing at the trees around it and clawing into the ground in agitation.

It grows, and it hurts. Hurts deep, deep inside, and the outside burns as it’s flesh is pulled and stretched, something thicker and harder plated in-between soft skin.   
  
There is no coherent thought in it, but the underlying sensation that this is How It Is and that it Deserves This for some inexplicable reason.

It exhausts itself and collapses, whimpering broken-heartedly.

After a time - a long time - bird song returns.

It sits up, body aching and shifting strangely. Shreds of fabric slide off of it although some portion clings stubbornly to the spikes on its back. It is. . .sad?

It sniffs the scraps and paws at them lightly, then catches sight of its fingers.

It taps them on the ground. They’re thinner than it would have thought?

“-n?”

It whips its head up and growls lowly. There is orange before it, not much bigger than it is. A ~~paw(?)~~ hand(?) reaches out for it and it lashes out, hissing.

Both of them are startled at the new noise, but it bunches back, muscles taut and ready to defend itself.

Orange-blue-white rumbles sounds back but they make no sense; it knows that this is one that Fights, and won’t make Noises to Avoid. These are feelings that rise up as certainties.

Orange is angry now, howling and flashing fangs aggressively, walking over suddenly and it hunkers lower, hissing and whimpering.

It attempts to bite, lunging forward.

And orange is bowled over with a yelp of surprise, so it jumps over and runs off. Flees.

Nothing will help it.

This is also a certainty.


End file.
